


Superposition

by queermedicine



Category: Black Mirror, Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Alternate Realities, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fate & Destiny, Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Multiple Timelines, No Sex, No Smut, Parallel Universes, Perhaps Colin is soft?, Recreational Drug Use, besides the drugs and the references to death, good ol fashioned family fun, lets bander this snatch, perhaps an excuse to talk about how pretty fionn whitehead is?, soulmates au on acid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queermedicine/pseuds/queermedicine
Summary: In every single timeline, no matter where he is or what he does differently, there isn’t a single universe where Colin Ritman doesn’t fall completely and madly in love with Stefan Butler.Stefan with his mild nature, stormy mind, and uncertain steps. The nervous boy who pulls Colin down to earth and matches his intellect while maintaining his humility. A meek mouse of a boy who will wander in his imagination for hours on end if you don’t keep a close eye on him.In every timeline, Stefan is there and there is no avoiding him. They’re drawn to each other. If Colin doesn’t find Stefan then Stefan finds him.





	Superposition

**Author's Note:**

> brought to you via eggs and toast for breakfast 5 days in a row, a midsummers night yankee candle, and a size XL Vans hoodie.  
> twitter: @queermedicine  
> with the very much appreciated help and guidance of @tanqueraylwt  
> i present to you the most complete fic i've written in about 5 years  
> fic title and concept from superposition by young the giant

_“We are all and we are nothing and everything in between. In every time; in darkness and in light, we are every second; every shade. Every morning we wake, there are endless possibilities; outcomes, realities of how that day will end. Each decision splits into a myriad of mirrors; a system of lines that enlace, tangle, and intersect. But in every one, you and I were bound to meet. It may be on the bleachers, in an airplane, the DMV, a race track, a bar, a tiny ship that crosses the ocean at night; but we would have found each other, and like light yawns across eons to spill on the floor beneath your window, we would fall in love, because we are all and we are nothing and everything in between. We are in superposition,”_

-

“Don’t worship him. He’s the thief of destiny.”

Colin wants to have words with this thief of destiny. He wants to throw himself across the table, reach into the television, fingertips ripping through the layer of static settled over the screen, and grab that lion fucker by his neck. He wants to wring the demon out like a used washcloth. Maybe he can twist out a destiny that's been stolen from him, watch as it coils out onto the floor like ribbons of film. Watch as it writhes at his feet, pathetically flickering memories up at him. 

He doesn’t though. He keeps his hand firmly propping his chin up, legs crossed and foot bobbing impatiently. Only half focused on the presentation in front of him, he responds when asked interjects only when he is needed, but other than that his mind is elsewhere. He doesn’t feel the need to focus on something that he’s seen an infinite amount of times, caused him an infinite amount of pain.

His hands are starting to ache though and he doesn’t have to glance at the screen to still feel the lion’s mocking gaze. He distracts the urge in his hands by flicking back and forth through the pages of the worn copy of Bandersnatch. When that stops working, he picks up the rubber band ball on the table beside him and starts to repetitively toss it up into the air and catch it with a satisfying thud.

He keeps his eyes trained on the ball, watching it melodically fall into and glide away from his hand as Thakur pitches his plan to Stefan with every ounce of enthusiasm he has to spare. He always makes a show of it, clapping his hands together, feigning a realization of how perfect it’ll all be as if he hadn’t been waiting for this proposal all morning. 

The pitch he’s setting up seems to be working though. If Colin couldn’t tell by the wideness of Stefan’s eyes and the beaming enthusiasm radiating off of him, he would know by the way Stefan is curling his hands into fists in his lap, and shifting in his seat with the restlessness of a young boy. 

Even so, Colin sees the hesitation. He isn’t even fazed by the “no” that leaves Stefan’s dumbfounded grin. 

So it’s one of those timelines.

Colin spares a glance at Thakur and purses his lips, sending him a small shrug as if to say ‘well, what are you gonna do?’ before Stefan goes into the usual rant following this sequence of actions.

“I mean yes, I want to do your game. I just think I need t-..I need to write it how I know.” His face scrunches with something that very well maybe regret, “You know, just me. At home.”

In one of the previous timelines, Stefan hadn’t even explained himself. Just thanked Mr. Thakur with a curt handshake and let the declination hang in the air, only for it to hit Thakur in the face one more time as Stefan slammed the door shut behind him.

Colin gives a short laugh at the memory, huffing air out his nose and attracting more attention than he necessarily wants. Stefan perks up, now holding hopeful eye contact with the less than enthused man sitting up on the table, “I’ve put some thought into this, I swear. It’s all in my head and if I let other people in I just know it’ll get stressy. I know that I can do it proper justice.”  
It’s not like he has to prove himself to Colin. Colin knows better than anyone what Stefan is capable of.

“I feel like you, Colin, would know better than anyone where I’m coming from.”

Oh. This one’s new.

“I’ve been reading some interviews you’ve done lately. You’re right, Teams are fine for action titles but with a concept piece like Bandersnatch-”

“-bit of madness is what you need.”

“Exactly!” There’s a desperation and a motivation to his words. He reaches up and taps at his temple with a nail-bitten finger, “and that works best when it’s one mind.”

A grin briefly threatens Colin’s lips as they hold a few awkward seconds of eye contact. Poor Stefan now realizing how close he’s come to telling “The Colin Ritman” that he spends hours analyzing his interviews. Colin is able to reign it in, subduing it before Thakur sees the lift at the corner of his mouth and accuses him of going soft for a boy he’s only just met.

If only he knew he’d been going soft for Stefan for far longer than the few seconds since they've shaken hands.

The rest of the meeting is just negotiation between Stefan and Thakur. Colin doesn't do much more to interfere besides adding some distant hums of approval, arms crossed in disassociation from the conversation. In the end, they reach the conclusion that Stefan is more than capable of finishing the game in the serenity of his own home.

Frankly, this decision isn’t that important to Colin. He knows the outcomes of whichever conclusion the two come to and he knows there's an equal chance for disaster to stem from either end. He’s quite enjoying this particular meeting though, despite his far off stares and jaded tone. 

Stefan’s got a good head on his shoulders in this timeline. From the second he walked in, he’s been the definition of eager. This Stefan is all in, fully prepared for failure and anything else that comes his way because he knows this game is good. There’s subtle confidence that Colin is sure Thakur hasn’t picked up on. But he can read Stefan in a dark room. If the average Stefan had his arm halfway in the pool, testing the waters, this Stefan was up on the diving board, arms outspread, waiting for his cue to jump.

The thing about being aware of the alternate universes is that Colin rarely changes. Why would he if he’s found a version of himself that he likes and can keep around? However, not everyone can assure they’re going to wear the same glasses or present themselves to the world in the same cynical way.

Stefan’s always the same person at his core but it’s like he’s been molded differently. Each universe has cradled him in its palm like a piece of clay. It has pushed and pulled at this human base until its version of an ideal Stefan has been created. The differences aren’t always defining. 

He’s met the Stefan who keeps his eyes downcast to the floor and buries himself under layers upon layers of clothing – in hopes that like a magic trick – he’ll disappear under the weight. He’s met a Stefan who parts his curls instead of letting them rest messily anywhere they please, and rocks a pair of burnt orange corduroy pants. He’s met a Stefan who hums little songs as he programs. A Stefan whose nails are pristine with an inability to stop pulling at his earlobe.

At the core, he’s still Stefan though. He speaks when he needs to, and his head is a mess. He has an overwhelming desire to do good. This Stefan just happens to be a fire. Colin can see the wild passion boiling just beneath the skin on his chest. He can hear it in the way Stefan denies Mohan Thakur’s convenient offer, counter-offering like he had been rehearsing it in his mirror this morning. It’s in the way he doesn’t even need Colin’s input to convince Thakur that this is important to his creative process. It’s the kind of passion that makes him feel like Stefan would’ve ended up here at Tuckersoft on his own accord anyway.

Colin feels like he’s had his destiny stolen from him. He also sometimes thinks that maybe he’s stealing Stefan’s destiny from him. Maybe destiny doesn’t even exist. If there are infinite timelines in which every single person has gone down a different path, made a different choice, ended up somewhere or with someone else, how could it possibly exist?

Although the television is off and the game has since been shut down, as Colin turns to leave the room he can feel a looming mane.

-

Conspiracy theories have always been able to capture Colin’s interest. It is ingrained in his personality to ask the hard questions and question the answers in return – to rip away at the pristine surface until he gets his fingernails caught in the rotten underneath. So the idea of alternate realities, multiple timelines branching off of each other, was directly up his alley.

He just had to view a couple of lifetimes before he was able to get it through his skull that this wasn’t a government conspiracy. He can’t help it. He just loves jumping to that conclusion. After brushing up on his quantum physics and relying heavily on roll-ups to get him through some restless nights, he’d come to a few realizations.

Colin’s first realization. Time is anything but linear. While he’s on one path, infinite other versions of him are on their own paths, making their own choices, and all of it is happening concurrently with whatever timeline he is in. 

Realization number two. As far as Colin knows, he is the only person on earth who is aware of and has memories of these other timelines. It’s not that he can jump between them or faze in and out of the reality of his choosing. He just exists in one but is aware of all the others at the same time. The moment the timeline he is in ends, he’s thrown into another one. He could be falling to his death one second and the next thing he knows, he’s at home, staring at unfinished code, a cigarette between his shaking fingers, a scream at the back of his throat.

Realization three. He is insignificant. For so long he had tried to piece it together, why him? His immediate reaction was to look for a fix. Something had to have been broken. Thinking like a game programmer, if there's an error, he needs to recode something. There had to be a reason to why, out of the billions of people on this planet, it’s him who has been tossed into this never-ending cycle.

At first, it was all trial and error. Maybe if he helped Stefan finish Bandersnatch, created a death free 5/5 star review timeline, his brain would silence and things would fall back into place. When that didn’t work, he jumped to the next possible solution. When solution after solution failed him, leaving him right back where he’s always been, he was able to ascertain that maybe nothing was broken, to begin with. 

Nothing specifically chose him. There was no greater lesson to be learned here. He is the unlucky sprite who glitched the game and it’s not within his ability to fix himself.

He’s everything and nothing all at once. Everywhere and nowhere. He’s the only one aware of this and that should be enlightening. He should feel powerful and almighty, but in reality, he’s at the hands of the universe. All this has really made him aware of is that his actions, and the choices he makes, are pointless. Nothing matters and nothing remains a constant.

Except for realization number four.

In every single timeline, no matter where he is or what he does differently, there isn’t a single universe where Colin Ritman doesn’t fall completely and madly in love with Stefan Butler. 

Stefan with his mild nature, stormy mind, and uncertain steps. The nervous boy who pulls Colin down to earth and matches his intellect while maintaining his humility. A meek mouse of a boy who will wander in his imagination for hours on end if you don’t keep a close eye on him.

In every timeline, Stefan is there and there is no avoiding him. They’re drawn to each other. If Colin doesn’t find Stefan then Stefan finds him. 

They run in the same circles, mutual friends. They’re co-workers at Tuckersoft or elsewhere. They’re neighbors growing up, side by side their whole lives. They pass each other on the street every day.

Stefan is a black hole and Colin can’t escape the gravitational pull. Not that he wants to. He’s perfectly content in letting the darkness devour him. Pleased to let it stretch and strain him till he’s coming apart, shred to bits or carefully unraveled. Whatever it wants of him.

Superposed to each other. Occupying one another. Coinciding throughout their whole extent.

And Colin is so bloody in love with him.

-

“What’d you listen to?” 

Stefan looks up from his hand tucking the well-read copy of Bandersnatch into his messenger bag. He pauses for a moment, obviously not prepared to engage in any more conversation with Colin Ritman, “Hmm?

“To get into the flow.” Colin can practically hear the boy’s thoughts pacing a mile a minute as he leisurely leads them back to his desk.

The footsteps following behind him are hesitant. Colin could tell just from the sound of the shuffle against the carpet that Stefan was wary of intruding, overstepping the boundaries by being in this space for too long with nothing to offer yet, “Oh, Music?”

Colin gives a slight nod and turns around as they come upon his desk. He takes a moment to look him over. _You usually wear your blue socks with that shirt but today you wore the striped ones._ He briefly remembers a conversation over a homemade breakfast. He remembers it being colder than what the forecast called for and he remembers a pair of white and blue striped socks. _Those are soft on the inside. You wear them when it’s cold or if you need a little extra comfort._

Colin settles into his swivel chair and kicks his feet up, hands resting interlocked over his stomach. He looks at Stefan expectantly and prompts a response, “Uh, Thompson Twins?”

It’s said like he’s asking for approval. Seeking permission or afraid of awaited judgment for his bus commute choices. Colin looks at him for a little too long for him to be entirely satisfied with the answer, “Get a pen.”

Stefan blinks back at him, still a little cautious that he’s encroaching, “A pen? Right. Let me just-”

He looks around, catching sight of and taking an empty seat next to Colin. He digs through his bag for a second before pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper and a pen. He does his best to hide the crumpled candy wrappers that have tumbled out during his search. Colin finds himself holding back yet another smile at the image of Stefan wandering the store aisles for just the right sweet.

Thompson Twins wasn’t that rare of a response. Before meeting Colin, Stefan wasn’t typically one for bands like Joy Division or The Smiths. Colin’s kind of glad about that though. He liked turning Stefan onto something new, and any timeline where Stefan had already listened to Colin’s favorite artists, he had that disgruntled teen energy which seemed to go against Stefan’s nature. Something you’d find on pop radio more suited his personal taste.

Colin recites the list he’s compiled in his head for what feels like – and probably is – the hundredth time, and watches, as Stefan writes in chicken scratch to keep up. Every song that leaves his tongue holds a different memory, each as special to him as the next.

_Driving at night, the street lamps casting an orangish glow over a sleeping Stefan. His lips slightly parted, overlapping front teeth barely in view, soft huffs of air escaping his mouth. Music playing lowly over the car’s speakers and Colin can’t help letting his eyes wander over every so often. Just to check._

_Hunched over a computer and pushing to meet a deadline. Stefan’s brought him a cup of tea and made him a mixtape with ‘motivation music’. He kisses Colin’s temple gently and leaves him with one more comment about how smooth the sprites look before heading out and leaving Colin to it._

When he’s done with his list, Stefan folds it up and tucks it safely in the pocket of his light brown leather jacket. He sends a shy but pleased smile Colin’s way, similar to the way he smiles at him over the brim of his mug. Private and full of meaning.

_I know how you take your tea in the morning. I could make you a cup right now, blindfolded. Your two favorite smells are fresh tea and fresh laundry. You’ve told me that even when everything is falling apart, washing your sheets can make you feel like you’ve still got it together._

“I know I may have made a show of the whole..lone woodsman thing back there, But I may have been overplaying my confidence a bit”, He adjusts the strap on his shoulder and looks everywhere but at Colin. Eye contact never was his strong suit, “I’m worried that I’m biting off more than I can chew. I meant what I said about not wanting this to be a group effort. It’s just-”

Colin notices how he’s picking at his cuticles, painfully accenting the already jagged nails. Before he tears the skin to shreds, Colin gives him some relief, “You ever find yourself in a hole just let me know.” He sits up to a position where he can reach into Stefan’s pocket, plucks the playlist out, and quickly scribbles down his number, “You know how to find me. I’ll be seeing you around.”

Stefan nods, an appreciative smile coinciding with a soft flush to his freckle covered cheeks. 

_Think I could map out every single one of your freckles. They look like constellations._

Sometimes Colin thinks there isn’t any way he could possibly love Stefan more. After doing so in these many timelines, there's no way he could possibly be more enamored with one person. But every timeline has proven him wrong at some point.

Stefan turns on his heels and Colin reaches for his headphones. He waits to put them on until Stefan’s footsteps have completely dissipated behind him.

-

Colin has lived through circumstances similar to this timeline more often than he’d prefer. Fortunately, those other times, Stefan hadn’t been so straightforward about receiving Colin’s help from the get-go. So there is hope for this one yet.

If the universe chose to be kind to them this time around, maybe Stefan won’t hit a roadblock in Bandersnatch. He’ll just hit a speed bump, get a little flustered, and call up Colin to check his tires. 

If this universe really likes him, then maybe, neither of them will end up staining the top of a storage container. They'll get high instead, Stefan's bony fingers reaching for the stack of comics on the coffee table, his far-off laugh louder than his breath. 

To be fair to the universe, the trips off the balcony were Colin’s idea. Sometimes, roll-ups weren’t enough to dull his reminiscing mind, and he had to call upon the aid of a different friend. This friend made him float to his ceiling and sink into the floor at once. It made his walls crawl with beautiful luminous patterns. It made him awfully aware of the pulsating neon lights surrounding him, glaring menacingly. This friend didn’t make sense, but he believed when it whispered to him that maybe if he jumped off the balcony he could show Stefan the truth. It made Colin believe that it may not have worked this time around but if one of them plummets to their death, they’ll both remember in the next life.

Shockingly, that doesn’t seem to be the solution. Colin’s learned that by now and any acid-taking he does is not done 200 feet in the air anymore.

He looks back on those timelines and wishes he had spared a thought for poor Kitty. The times Stefan had jumped, she was there to bring Colin down. To pull him inside and wrap him in a blanket till his sobs subsided and he was back to face the reality of what he had conjured. He could only imagine what she came to face when it was Colin who had done the deed. Sometimes he thinks he can hear the phantom of her scream, but he’s never been there to know for sure.

Kitty isn’t always there but when she is, she’s good to him. Better to him than Colin deserves anyway. They’re never romantic with one another – merely posing as husband and wife to protect themselves from the scrutiny of their sexualities – but she cares about him immensely. He’s grown to love her daughter, Pearl, as well. Sometimes when she gets old enough, she takes up an interest in watching him program, sits on his lap and pretends she’s doing it herself. She’s daddy’s little legacy, as Colin playfully refers to her. Kitty scoffs every time.

The chances of Kitty entering Colin’s life at all are slim though – in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t want to think about the timelines she hasn't been there, Stefan crumpled to the floor of an empty apartment, just having watched Colin’s free fall.

There's always a possibility for a timeline punctuated by death - Stefan's, his dad's or Colin's own. However, he’s learned from the errors of his ways and has gotten pretty good at making sure that these tragic ends don’t happen. There are plenty of other tragedies to be had.

Sometimes instead of attempting to force the realization, Colin just tells him. They’ll be high as kites, lazing about in Colin’s study. Walking hand in hand under the moonlight just after date night. Laying in Stefan’s bed, pressed into one another, his fingers brushing through Stefan’s curls. Just lets it spill out of him, words tumbling like the smoke from his cigarettes, and lets the admission sit in the air, a hanging thick fog.

When Stefan believes him, he believes every word. He gazes at him, eyes glossy and star-filled. Tightens his grip wherever he holds Colin and pulls him in closer. He’ll listen for hours as Colin tells him the different places and ways they’ve been in love. There are so many questions in Stefan’s mind and he’s afraid his skull will crack open with the pressure. But he believes Colin like he’s never believed anything before.

The times when Stefan is high, he starts to even think that he can remember. He swears, as Colin rattles off these memories, that he too can feel them. Smell them. Hear them. Taste them. All of his senses are suddenly overtaken by the feeling of Colin on him everywhere. That always ends up just being the drugs.

But the confession isn’t always taken lightly. The curiosity looming in Stefan’s brain soon turns to guilt. It shoots into his bloodstream and overtakes his entire system. Believe it or not, telling someone that you’ve lived through multiple universes, and that your entire existence revolves around them is a lot of responsibility for a single person to take on. Stefan convinces himself that it’s his fault. He is the reason why this is happening. Because he doesn’t know the order in which things should happen, he fucks them up and in the end, Colin has to suffer. He thinks that he could save Colin from having to endure it if he just left. If – in this reality – he were to go far away from Colin and never talk to him, maybe that would do something for them in the next. He’d be doing Colin a favor by letting him live his life Stefan-free for once, letting him out of the matrix.

But Colin knows there isn’t a universe where they can avoid each other forever. He knows that even if Stefan moves across the world, the universe is not going to let Colin move on and live a normal life. He knows because they’ve tried it. Stefan fucked off to California once and became a successful author. Of course, because the universe likes to rip Colin apart from the inside, Stefan released a book, and there was no question who it was written for. It was, as if, Stefan had separated a thread from Colin, and embroidered it through every single page.  
Stefan making himself the issue and spending an entire life trying to separate himself for Colin’s sake has never worked. If anything, Colin just had to spend the remainder of that timeline waiting for the next. 

It’s rare that Stefan doesn’t believe him but it does happen. His brows furrow and he lets go of Colin’s hand or stands up from where he was anchored to Colin’s side. He’s dismissive. The more persistent Colin becomes, the more irate Stefan gets. He likes to be in control, likes to know his autonomy is all his own and doesn’t like having to question that.

So Colin usually spares Stefan the truth. Perhaps he’s just sparing himself from being the deliverer of the truth. He already feels like Stefan has no choice in the matter of loving him. He doesn’t want that knowledge to burden Stefan as well. 

He’ll let the universe do as it intends, and maneuver him in any direction it shall. He’ll silently move Stefan’s name around in his mouth like a prayer. Let this universe be generous.

-

Colin’s aware that his energy is generally unapproachable. There's an air about him that’s usually misunderstood as aggravated or egotistical. The majority of the Tuckersoft programmers and interns usually take his dismissive nature as a cue for them to leave him be. If only Mohan Thakur himself could pick up on how Colin is more interested in the clicking of his lighter than what he’s rambling about.

In actuality, there's just an unbearable monotony in living through these many lifetimes. Colin isn’t above everyone in the world for having a piece of knowledge that no one else does. It doesn’t make him evolutionarily superior to the common man. 

He’s just gotten really good at filtering out the bullshit. If he comes off as a bit of a dick, well, so be it. He’s only got one person to impress.

Colin is sitting at his desk in his usual position, legs kicked up nonchalantly, a cigarette resting lax between his pointer and middle finger. He’s working on Nohzdyve again. He took a break from it in the past couple of Tuckersoft timelines, not exactly elated to be making a game with such coincidentally eerie circumstances. He always knew he’d come back to it at some point though, and the game’s simple premise always rated high and sold well. 

He takes a long drag, purposefully holding it in for just too long before letting it flow out on his exhale, the smoke billowing out thick. There’s a tightness in his chest. He’s not sure whether it’s his lungs starved for oxygen or the shifting figure standing to his right. 

Stefan’s standing back from the desk a fair bit, watching the smoke twist and curl as it catches the light. It’s been a little bit longer than a week since his indecisive disposition has carried its way through the Tuckersoft office. Colin wasn’t actually expecting him to stop by so soon. It was usually a couple of weeks of driving himself to the brink of insanity before Stefan gave in and decided to call Colin, or they ran into each other on the street. This was a welcomed change of pace.

Stefan’s preoccupied in thought, watching the smoke drift to the ceiling as he works something out underneath his skull. He doesn’t notice Colin spinning around in his chair to face him. It gives Colin a moment to take him in. He studies the way his eyes flicker about the room and his feet kick at the floor, not able to stay still under his tense weight, “What brings you back, lone woodsman?”

Stefan flits his attention towards the voice, “Oh! Hi, I just-” he trails off and looks to Colin with anticipation, not knowing much else to do besides letting out a nervous huff.  
Colin can’t help the impulse that overtakes him, to reach a bit further and pull Stefan close by his shirt. To wrap his arms around his midsection and look up at him, lovingly, from where he sits. 

Instead, he tightens his smile and reaches out a hand in greeting, taking the prior urge off the heat before it has the chance to boil over. It feels too formal, feels like they are coworkers and that’s all they've ever known each other as. Colin assumes it’s his best bet. It still doesn’t stop him from hoping that Stefan will pull him closer as their hands meet between them.

“Well?” Colin brings his cigarette up and perches it in between his lips, talking out the side of his mouth, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Stefan’s restless feet have carried him closer to Colin’s workspace now. He gestures to the brown paper shopping bag in his other hand, lifting it slightly, “I was out and about for my dad and just thought maybe I’d drop by. I’ve got some Bandersnatch stuff I wanted to run by someone, actually. Just weeding out repetitive endings, narrowing down options, and all that”, He hasn’t made eye contact once, “Best to get a professional opinion.”

Colin puts out his cigarette on his desk ashtray, feeling like maybe the nicotine rush would be a bit much right now. He eases himself back into a comfortable position and makes a point of looking directly at Stefan, “Always thought it was ironic, that, having too many choices in a choose your own adventure game can be taxing on a player’s mind.”

“It’s becoming taxing on my mind.” Stefan lets out a strained chuckle and absent-mindedly brings his hands together in front of him, shopping bag rustling as he picks away at the loose skin around his nails, “A bit of madness, yeah?”

Against what is possibly his better judgment, Colin moves his hand to rest on one of Stefan’s, making him aware of his starting habit rather than verbalizing the issue to him. Colin’s sure Stefan gets onto himself enough for it.

“I said a bit. Not a boatload. Anytime you need to call it quits or push the due date, you say the word.” His hand is still on Stefan’s. He gives it a reaffirming squeeze, “Thakur would give everyone in this building time off before he watches me walk out the doors. It’s not imperative we get this game out for the Christmas rush.”

Stefan’s calmed down significantly. His pupils have finally stopped dancing around the room and are now meeting Colin’s over the brim of his aviators. It’s the first time Stefan’s really looked at him in this lifetime and it’s comforting. Colin wants to slip into it. Wants to wrap himself up and get tangled in it. He wants to pull Stefan in behind him so they can get lost in each other.

When Colin starts to notice the shift of Stefan’s feet coming back and realizes he can’t exactly pore over him all day, he breaks the gaze. He locates a swivel chair within his reach and hooks his ankle around the base, pulling it to his side and nodding for Stefan to take a seat, “This is what I’m working on.”

Stefan’s got the corner of his lips between his teeth as he sits down. Now that he’s close, Colin can see the way his cheeks look bitten from a chill that was never there. Stefan turns his attention towards Colin’s computer screen and leans forward with interest. Elbows tucked to his knees and posture abysmal, “Nohzdyve,” he reads out the title like he’s said it a million times.

Colin hits run and they watch as the 8-bit man pushes through his window and free falls, framed by purple and red brick buildings, passing air conditioning units and clotheslines. Colin holds back a wince for a different version of him.

Stefan can’t take his eyes off the screen, “The sprites are so smooth.”

“That took some doing.” As if on cue, the accompanying 8-bit music shrieks out of tune. The screen shifts and splits, and what’s left of the game is a white screen with an error message. Colin lets out a practiced exhale, “Still needs some doing apparently.”

Stefan chuckles, “Just a buffer error. The eyeball sprites have overshot the video memory.” He sits up in the chair and nudges Colin with his elbow, “Easy fix for Colin Ritman, yeah?”

Colin lets his hand come up to rest over his mouth, feigning frustration to keep his smug smile at bay. Word for word, “Yep.” 

It might seem insignificant to anyone else. Stefan will probably walk out of this office and not think twice about it. He’ll get on the bus and as he’s picking out his music for the afternoon, it won’t even cross his mind. He’ll go home and go about the rest of his day and it will have long fled to the back of his mind. But these moments chain Colin to some kind of hope.

Maybe, he won’t always be the only one to know. If Stefan can remember, verbatim, things Colin has said to him in other universes, then maybe, he can cut his cynicism with blind optimism every so often. Maybe one of these days, Stefan will come into Tuckersoft for the first time. and instead of greeting each other with a handshake, he’ll bury himself into Colin’s chest. He’ll breathe him in and never want to let go because he’ll know what Colin knows.

So Colin keeps trying.

 _“We’ve met before?”_  
_“I told you I'd see you around.”_

_“Don’t worship him. He’s the thief of destiny”_  
_“You’ve read Bandersnatch?” _  
_“Jerome F. Davies. Visionary”_ __

__

____

Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking, but what’s the harm in trying to spark the semblance of a memory.

Colin notices Stefan shift next to him, going to pick up his shopping bag once again, “I don’t want to be in the way of you working on your game. You’ve got deadlines to worry about, separate from me.” He lifts himself out of his chair and pushes it back to where Colin got it from, “I can figure all the Bandersnatch stuff out on my own. Shouldn’t have to burden you with it. Plus I’ve got stuff in these bags that needs to go in the freezer as soon as-”

“I’m usually here after hours..” Colin cuts him off mid-ramble. There’s a brief pause as Stefan contemplates what Colin’s offering. Colin starts up again before Stefan can object, “I’m staying late most nights, actually. Thakur despises not being the last one to leave the building but he deals with it for my sake. Doors won't lock till I’m gone.”

Stefan seems to toss the offer around in his head for a second. Colin notices the way he curls his thumbs into fists and shoves one hand into his jacket pocket. He also notices the deep breath Stefan takes before asking, “so, no wife to get home to?”

Oh, that’s brave. Colin needs a roll up right now, actually. 

“No. No wife. Not in this lifetime.” Colin tries to be casual but his shoulders have stiffened and his leg is bouncing under his desk, “If you know what I mean.”

Stefan most certainly has no idea what Colin means.

“Oh. Oh okay. Yeah, I’ll uhm..stop by”  
Colin gives a two finger salute and turns back towards his desk to fix the buffer error still on screen. All Stefan ends up being able to muster is a slight wave – saying or doing something more seems daunting on both their ends – before being on his way.

Colin absolutely does not pull his headphones on immediately and listen to Hold Me Now by Thompson Twins.

-

A lot changes in a building over the course of ten hours. The Tuckersoft office isn’t one of those places that is constantly bustling with excitement but it has a steady flow that you grow used to the longer you’re there. Throughout the workday, there's never a lull. Everyone is always working on their own project or working on a project for someone else. There's also the added ‘up and at em’ energy provided by Thakur’s booming laughter and overtly present personality.

Ten hours later, the constant background noise of video game jingles and clicking of keyboards has been replaced by the solitary whir of Colin’s computer and the clicking of the pen between his fingers. After most people have packed up and headed out for the evening, only the determined stragglers remain. After the fluorescent ceiling lights have been flipped off in favor of a couple dim desk lamps and the glow of the city below, creeping in through the office’s long vertical blinds.

The space is cavernous and uncanny but holds a sense of serenity. If Colin looks directly at the screen in front of him, he can convince himself that the darkness in his periphery isn’t the grayscale surroundings of Tuckersoft. He can fool himself into believing that it’s the comforting black of a lightless apartment from another lifetime.

 

A two bedroom flat staged to look like that of two roommates. A used toothbrush in each bathroom and unkempt sheets on both beds. They could have people over or invite family around and no one would be doubtful of a thing. No one would suspect that at the end of a long workday, one of the roommates slips his way into the other’s room, and crawls into bed with him. Stefan tucks himself into Colin’s side and Colin pulls him in closer.

No one would suspect that in the early hours of the morning, when Stefan hasn’t crept his way to Colin’s bed because he is still hunched over his desk and too immersed to realize that the sunset has melted into midnight, Colin comes and gets him. He wanders, without his glasses, out into the central living space and towards monitor’s light. Once he’s there he leans forward and rests his chin atop Stefan’s head, hand on his shoulder to bring him back to earth.

“Sweetheart,” he mutters into Stefan’s curls and presses it in with a kiss, “Put it down for tonight. Pick it back up tomorrow.”  
If Colin had called anyone else by that pet name, it would sound condescending and would probably be laced with spite. Everything’s genuine with Stefan. Everything's domestic and familiar. They take care of each other.

Colin pictures Stefan standing across a kitchen from him. It’s 4 in the morning and neither of them has slept well the past few nights. Colin’s been staring at code for a week straight and the strain is making his eyes feel like the blown out wick of a candle, blossomed with carbon, still glowing faintly. Stefan’s leaning against the counter, arms wrapped around himself and hands tucked into his sides for warmth. He’s wearing one of Colin’s t-shirts, fresh from the dryer. Despite the dark circles and cadaverous skin tone, he looks beyond content.

As Colin makes them fresh cups of tea, his own hands hardly steady from the lack of sleep, Stefan doesn’t remove his doting gaze. Colin wonders what tender thoughts are stirring behind Stefan’s eyes and he wonders what he did to deserve them. 

They talk sweetly to one another – barely above a whisper – even though they are the only ones in the flat. While their mugs warm their hands, they fill the room with confessions. All those what-ifs being played out onto the table in front of them. 

They show each other their cards and make promises neither of them are sure they can keep. Colin would marry him if he could.

 

There’s a thud and a muffled gasp from somewhere behind Colin, cutting through the room’s silence. He whips his head around to see Stefan amongst some of the moving boxes leftover from Tuckersoft’s transfer into the new office space. He’s standing unmoving amongst the mountain of cardboard, probably hoping that if he stays still for long enough he’ll disappear right before Colin’s eyes or become one with the darkness surrounding them.

Colin fully turns to face the easily flustered boy and watches him slouch on an exhale, defeated from being caught in the act. Colin chuckles as Stefan goes to pick up the box he’s knocked down, knocking another two down in the process. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He frantically stacks the three boxes onto a nearby table and holds his hands out, ready to catch them if they still haven’t steadied. He waits a second before coming to the conclusion that his reign of terror is over and steps away to prevent further tragedy, “I just-..You looked peaceful. Looked like you were thinking about something important. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Colin takes the time Stefan is weaving through boxes and desks to observe him. He has ditched the brown shopping bag from earlier that day and traded it in for his messenger bag from the other week. He’s wearing the same tawny, worn in jacket as always. The same jacket that Colin has seen hanging in the closet, strewn across the bed, and left lazily by the door of their apartment. Today he has layered it over his green sweater and paired it with yellow socks. Very classic of him.

Colin takes the roll-up settled between his lips and taps it onto his ashtray, “How long were you intending on watching me then?” 

The look that crosses Stefan’s face is pure mortification, “I wasn’t- That’s weird. I wasn’t trying to be weird.” He looks about ready to let the ground beneath his feet open up and swallow him whole.

Colin spares him the time to be embarrassed and stands from his chair, bringing the smoke back to his mouth as he does. Long, gangly, shadows get cast onto the carpeted floor as he passes through the light of the desk lamps. He motions for Stefan to follow and the two head to the boardroom where Bandersnatch was originally pitched.

Colin’s shirt has been long since untucked. His hair has been flattened and ruffled from running his fingers through it, a product of the day’s stresses. Stefan has always said that he likes the way Colin looks when he’s just gotten home from work or when his head hits the pillow after a long day. He’s at his most stripped down. Stefan likes seeing Colin show vulnerability, proof that he’s got the emotions of any other human. He’s said that the more tired Colin gets, the softer he becomes. The cool glass walls he’s built up around himself come falling down. Colin doesn’t tell him that but anytime he’s in Stefan's presence, it feels like someone has shattered those walls with a rock.

Colin opens the door to the boardroom and pauses to let his eyes adjust, causing a distracted Stefan to bump into him from behind. He can hear a whispered string of embarrassed curses as he finds his way to a standing lamp. He flicks it on and goes to sit atop the long meeting table, half of it still shrouded in night.

Stefan sits at an adjacent seat before pulling his copy of Bandersnatch, and a journal – spine broken and creased at the corners – out of his bag. Stefan goes through everything he’s written with Colin, showing him the various branches the game can take and the seemingly endless amount of choices. He has taken every ending from the monster of a book and added in even more that he feels could’ve fit into the original work. Colin understands where Stefan’s turmoil comes from. He thinks just looking through these pages for too long might push him to the brink of insanity. They pass the tobacco cylinder between each other as they tear down and rework the mess Stefan has created for himself. He helps Stefan strip it back, give the player the illusion of free will, but in actuality, the amount of endings one can receive is slim. 

They’ve been working for a while when Colin feels an ache in his shoulders. Despite the heaviness in his eyelids, he looks up to check the ticking wall clock that he’s tuned out since entering the room. 1 A.M. 

He looks back to where Stefan is absorbed in writing down the new and improved choice paths. In another universe, Colin would lean over and tilt his chin up for a kiss then gently towards the wall clock. Instead, he taps the table beside where Stefan is carefully jotting the plot down and stands, “As much as I’d love to let you deprive yourself of sleep, this place, unfortunately, shuts down when I do and I’m pretty keen to head home.”

Stefan looks between Colin and the clock, evidently surprised they’d been at it for so long, “Oh, Sorry I kept you so late. I’m used to staying up I guess. Time just sort of melts.” He begins to gather all his things, shoving them messily into his messenger bag as to not take his time and keep Colin any longer, “Don’t have someone policing my sleeping habits at home. My dad tries, but he never really gets through.”

The corner of Colin’s mouth twists up, “Well aren’t you lucky to have me.”

He’s endeared by the sharp intake of breath from Stefan’s chair that he hears before exiting the boardroom, heading back to his own desk. He makes sure he has the important stuff, leaves the various scribbled on papers that can be dealt with another day, and shuts everything off. After grabbing his favorite blazer from where it’s hanging off the back of his seat, he throws it on and turns to show Stefan out. He doesn’t notice Stefan has come out of the boardroom and is standing right behind him till they’ve bumped into one another, face to face.

It’s much darker now that they’ve turned off the majority of the lights, but Colin can still see Stefan perfectly. Maybe that’s because he knows Stefan’s features like people know their way home.

“Sorry about that,” Colin rushes out an apology. Despite his brain urging his limbs to take a step back, he is frozen in place. It feels like half of him is screaming for personal space while the other half wants nothing more than to be as close to the shorter boy as possible. For the first time, Colin is afraid he is the one overstepping a boundary.

He forgets that thought when he watches Stefan’s eyes drift down to his chest. He lifts a delicate hand and brings it to settle at the pins on the lapel of Colin’s blazer. His fingers hover, tapping at the metal while he ponders over each of them, “Like your pins”

His voice is soft and unsure. Colin is almost certain Stefan isn’t talking about his pins. He’s asking for permission.

Stefan’s fingers move over to where Colin’s collared shirt is sticking out from underneath his blazer, he runs his fingers down the stitching and looks back up to meet Colin’s stare.  
Colin feels a rush to his head. Similar to that of the first drag from a roll-up, except it's solely from the way Stefan is looking at him. He feels high. 

The blind slats cast a patterned shadow on Stefan’s face. His eyes are brilliant, and filled with unending questions. Colin wants to say yes to every single one of them. 

So he does. He nods slightly and apparently that’s exactly the signal Stefan was waiting for. Suddenly, there are lips on his and a tight grip wrinkling his button up. 

Colin lets out a stifled hum of content and moves a hand up to hold Stefan’s chin. His other hand slots itself between Stefan’s jacket and sweater, resting at the swell of his hip. It’s an all too familiar moment of clarity. It is, as if, he’d been driving in a storm without his windshield wipers on, sheets of heavy rain blurring the road in front of him. 

But it has stopped raining now. Someone has wiped his windows dry and the post-storm sky looks so overwhelmingly beautiful.

Stefan’s hands caught between them pull tighter at the shirt. He lifts himself onto his tiptoes, stumbling slightly. He breathes a laugh against Colin’s lips but is cut off by Colin bringing them together once again, capturing his lips with languid movements. 

It’s as easy for him as breathing.

There are some realities where he never gets to experience this. The occasional timeline in which Colin has to watch Stefan love somebody else. The timelines where things just don’t work out, they break up, or they never even get close to being together. It feels like he’s suffocating. It feels like he’s spinning out of control on a road slick with rain.

There are times when he’s angry at whatever burdened him with this cycle. For a moment, he wishes he could just live in the bubble with everyone else, ignorant to all the realities snaking off like roots. A life where he could fall in love with Stefan like it were the first time. Naturally. Without prior knowledge of the times they’ve made it and the times they’ve come only so close.

Then he remembers what the wait is for. He sees Stefan, just pulled away from a kiss, lips slightly parted, looking at him like he’s everything. 

What the fuck does all the other stuff matter when he’s got Stefan this close to him and he’s running his thumb across Stefan’s bottom lip. When Stefan’s giving him the same look he gives him from across the kitchen, gazing at him over a steaming mug of tea. The same look he gives him after he’s snuck down the hall and is crawling into bed with him. The same look when he’s listening to Colin drone on about the latest conspiracy he’s made himself interested in.

Why would he ever want to live a normal existence if it meant he could only fall in love with Stefan once? What a waste that would be.

Stefan is the first to take a step back, dropping his hand from where it’s still clinging to Colin’s shirt and adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He’s unable to contain the giggle tickling the back of his throat, as he wipes at the corner of his mouth. Colin smiles and doesn’t even attempt to suppress it, mind hazy and blood rushing loudly inside him.

Stefan wipes his palms down the front of his sweater and straightens himself out, “Would it be alright if I stopped by again tomorrow night?”

It’s unspoken. _Would it be alright if we never stopped doing that?_

Colin nods, “I’d quite enjoy that, yeah.”

_I don’t think I’ll ever stop._

Despite the hardships that come with what Colin knows and experiences, he feels privileged because how incredible is it to be in love with Stefan indefinitely.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @queermedicine


End file.
